


A Sleep Deprived Tactician is a Doomed Tactician

by pasteladins



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Myrrh (mentioned), Reader-Insert, Sleepiness, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14437689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasteladins/pseuds/pasteladins
Summary: Alfonse just wants to see you resting peacefully in bed instead of overworking yourself.





	A Sleep Deprived Tactician is a Doomed Tactician

Harsh rain poured down in the night, and many heroes took that as their cue to retire to their private quarters. The castle halls were empty, save for the soldiers running their nightly patrols. A comfortable silence filled the library, save for the droplets of rain crashing onto the earth.

You, of course, refused to go to bed -- yet again. You had a few last-minute revisions regarding the march for tomorrow, and you wanted to make sure everything perfect. The upcoming march focused on attacking a fort that was recently taken over by Muspell. Figuring out a plan for the attack was not easy, and it required you to spend many late-night sessions at the library -- much like right now.

You furiously rubbed your eye, shaking your head to dispel your blurred vision. The candle you were using as a source of light was now weak and dim, its wax whittled down to a measly stump. How long had it been since you took a break? Oh well. That did not matter right now; you had work to do.

“Hrmm… Myrrh could take out those lance wielders… and she can even counter some of the mages…” You mumble, eyes drooping as you scribbled on your paper. Your head felt heavy, and you could not find the strength to keep it upright. Slowly, you allowed your head to rest on the desk, landing with a soft thud against the heavy book that was beside your notes.

Yes… Perhaps a quick break would suffice… A couple of minutes… a couple of hours… no one would know.

Before you could succumb to sleep, the sound of a roaring thunder brought you back to your senses, jolting you awake as your body sits up straight. You shivered as the furniture rumbled against the thunder’s diminishing power.

“Hmph… I have to finish this… anyways…” You yawned, forcing your heavy hand to grab the pen and resume writing. Your movements were languid as you scribble incoherent cursive on the parchment. Your mind was a complete mess -- finally being pushed to its limit. Was it cursive you were writing, or mere gibberish?

“If Myrrh is here, someone needs to protect her from sword units, so then who could--”

Before you could finish your question, a gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder. In your sleep deprived state, it took a moment for you to realize there was someone behind you. Half-lidded eyes meet Alfonse’s own. He inspects the dark circles under your eyes with a grim frown.

“Kiran,” he begins, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t you think it’s time to put your work away and come to bed?”

“Sorry, Alfie, but I have some battle plans I’d like to try.”  Despite enjoying his touch, you pull away, returning to the parchment.

The prince’s hand twitches, and a frown tugs at his lips. With a heavy sigh, he pulls the chair next to you and sits in it.

“Would it not be wiser to come back to it in the morning? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” His suggestion does have merit to it, and for a moment, you do take it into consideration. Your head bobs slightly and the prince’s shoulders tense.

Before you could even argue your point, a yawn escapes your mouth, which you hastily endeavor to cover. “I’m afraid that’s impossible since the march takes place tomorrow morning. Besides, it’s just a few touch ups!”

“Oh?” The prince quirks a brow. “Is it like the previous ‘touch ups’ you made to the previous march? The one where you almost fell asleep on the battlefield?”

“...er…”

He turns his body to face you, his bangs swaying. “Or perhaps it is similar to the last-minute fixes you made for the battle before that. The one that caused you to fall ill due to your lack of rest? And what about--”

“Okay!” You drop the quill into the bottle of ink as you face the prince. “One example is enough…” You rest your head on your hand. “Either way, I’m not going to bed.”

Despite the aching of your tired muscles, your arms were crossed, and you straighten your back. More like a child than anything, Alfonse notes. Perhaps it is the lack of sleep that has you acting unreasonable.

Or perhaps, when it came to making decisions for your health, you were not the most reasonable person.

Alfonse runs a hand through his hair. Just how stubborn could one person be? “Kiran… you are going to bed -- no more of this discussion.” He feels his jaw clench when you scoot away with your chair, a grimace clear on your face.

“You can say that all you want but I’m not going, Alfie.”

“Kiran--”

“I’ll be fine! I’ve always been running on very little sleep -- I’m used to it now!”

“But you shouldn’t be…” He mutters, his gaze now downcast and defeated.

Upon hearing this, your shoulders fall and your back slouches, a deep frown appearing on your face. Of course. He was only worried about your wellbeing; the least you could do was not worry and stress the prince so much. After all, he already has so much to focus on -- you were supposed to ease that burden, not add onto it.

Finally giving in, you let out sigh. “...Alright.” You speak in a hush whisper, almost drowned out by the rain, but the prince catches it. He stares up at you, lips parted in confusion.

“I’ll go to bed. I don’t want to give you any more trouble.” Suddenly, a coy smirk plays on your lips. “Buuut...” The mischievous glint in your eyes catches Alfonse’s attention.

Suddenly, you hop from your seat and close the large tome. Gentle fingers pick up the loose parchments and place them in the corner. It was a quick cleanup, one that you could finish in the morning. Now, you take a few steps back, stuffing the book back on its appointed shelf.

“I must say… I am quite exhausted I may not even be able to walk…” You say, the back of your hand dramatically raised to touch your forehead. _“You may need to come over here and make me~!”_

Finally understanding your intentions, Alfonse returns your playful smile. “Then so be it!” He exclaims before picking you up and carrying you from the back of your legs and back.

You fit comfortably in his hold, and you nuzzle into his chest, eliciting a chuckle from the prince.

“Comfortable?”

The Askran royal receives his answer in the form of your constant nuzzling. “Mmm… Yup! So comfy… and warm… thank you, Alfonse.”

“Of course, my love.” The prince leans down to blow out the diminishing fire from the candle.

Between the warm embrace of your beloved and the gentle pitter patter of the rain, you find yourself being lulled to sleep. The last thing you remember were a soft whisper…

“I love you, Kiran. Sleep well.”


End file.
